Su Muyu stood in the courtyard with ten people behind him. Except for Chou Niu and Mao Tu, all others—Zi Shu, Yin Hu, Chen Long, Si She, Wu Ma, Wei Yang, Shen Hou, You Ji, Xu Gou, and Hai Zhu—stood there respectfully.
“I believe you can all guess the real reason why Chou Niu left,” Su Muyu said gravely.
The ten people behind him remained silent, each gripping their weapons tightly.
“But there’s no need to speak of it. All will be revealed when this matter concludes,” Su Muyu suddenly lowered his voice, “However, I know Chou Niu isn’t the only one.”
“Chief…” Yin Hu couldn’t help but call out.
“No need for words. Regardless,” Su Muyu turned around and planted his umbrella on the ground, “at least today, please ensure you guard this Spider’s Nest well.”
“Yes!” everyone shouted in unison.
Inside the inner chamber, a hundred red candles had been lit, their light amplified by eighteen copper mirrors until the entire room blazed with illumination. Bai Hehuai took a deep breath and sat before the Patriarch: “Patriarch, are you prepared?”
The Patriarch sat cross-legged on the ground, his upper body bare, revealing muscled sinews. The Sleeping Dragon Sword lay beside him. He had been meditating with closed eyes, only opening them at Bai Hehuai’s call. He nodded, “Divine Physician, please begin.”
“Very well.” Bai Hehuai gently pulled out a red cloth band covered in silver needles that glinted coldly in the candlelight. With a wave of her hand, three silver needles struck the Patriarch’s chest. He let out a muffled grunt and spat out a mouthful of white blood.
“It has progressed to this extent…” Bai Hehuai frowned slightly. Her hand moved again, and three needles leaped into the air before landing in the Patriarch’s crown. Heat began radiating from his body, filling the room of candles and copper mirrors with a misty haze.
Outside the Spider’s Nest.
Xie Fanhua’s twin Ghost Blades fell without a sound, cleaving through the red gate. He leaped inside, followed by five others.
“Silent Formation. Make no sound,” Xie Qianji whispered.
Just as Xie Qianji finished speaking, small copper bells hanging from the surrounding eaves began to ring. The sound grew increasingly dense and loud as hundreds of arrows simultaneously shot toward them, giving them no chance to breathe before turning them into human sieves.
“Chief’s guess was right—someone would come tonight.” Yin Hu landed and approached to examine the six corpses. He used his blade to turn over the frontmost body and exclaimed, “A puppet!” He instinctively leaped backward, but the corpse moved faster, reaching out to strike him. Yin Hu’s long blade flashed, cutting the hand into three pieces.
This corpse wasn’t human at all but made of wood.
Among the five corpses, one person stood up. He wore white clothes, was thin in build, with an unnaturally pale complexion.
“Puppet Killing Art—you’re Mu Bai,” Yin Hu called out.
“Xie Family’s Xie Huxiao, your perception isn’t what it used to be,” a cold voice sounded behind Yin Hu.
Yin Hu was startled, cold sweat breaking out on his back. This person’s speed was so great he hadn’t detected anything. He hurriedly turned, instinctively swinging his blade, relying on years of assassin’s training to block the incoming strike. Still, he was forced back ten steps, only stopping when Chen Long rushed forward to steady him.
“The inheritor of the Dragon Fang Blade,” Chen Long sighed, “Ah Hu, it seems the Xie family has produced a better blade than ours.”
“Xie Longyin, Xie Huxiao.” Mu Bai smiled, “Are you satisfied facing these two blades at once? Xie Buxie.”
“You’re Xie Buxie,” Yin Hu was even more surprised, “You’ve grown so much.”
“You were the first to teach me blade work,” Xie Buxie stepped forward, “I’ve waited long for this battle.”
“That little blade fanatic has become a true blade fanatic,” Chen Long drew his sword, advancing with Yin Hu to engage Xie Buxie. Though Xie Buxie wielded only the Dragon Fang Blade against their two blades, he showed no sign of disadvantage.
The real Xie Qianji finally landed on the eaves, his throwing knife flashing out to cut down all the copper bells: “I’ll break the formation, you proceed forward.”
“Don’t underestimate us.” Eight masked figures appeared simultaneously—all remaining members of the Twelve Earthly Branches now present.
“Not bad, not bad. Let’s see how you fight first.” Mu Qingyang strode in wearing Taoist robes, flipping a peach blossom coin into the air. When the peach blossom face landed in his palm, he laughed, “Hahaha, peach blossom—great fortune!”
“The Mu family’s fake Taoist,” Zi Shu leaped forward, his pair of maces striking toward Mu Qingyang.
Mu Qingyang’s expression remained unchanged, still smiling faintly. A silver-clad figure—Mu Xuwei—flashed past him, directly grabbing the right mace as white mist traveled along it toward Zi Shu.
“Careful, she’s the Poison Flower!” someone warned from behind.
Zi Shu hastily retreated, his dual maces whirling to disperse the poisonous mist.
“Where is Su Muyu?” Mu Xuwei asked.
“Don’t start thinking about your dream lover right away,” Mu Qingyang shook his head helplessly, “We’re here on business.”
“If you want to see Su Muyu, it’s simple—kill everyone here and you’ll see him,” Mu Bai waved his hand, and the four puppets beside him all stood up.
At this moment, Su Muyu stood in the corridor outside the Patriarch’s chamber, slowly rotating his umbrella handle as he listened to the sounds of battle from the front courtyard.
“Do you think they can fight their way here?” The hunchbacked elder appeared beside Su Muyu.
“They obtained the Spider’s Nest’s blueprints and specifically arranged for experts who can break formations. The Spider’s Nest has lost its meaning,” Su Muyu said softly.
“Few people could possess these blueprints,” the hunchbacked elder smiled, appearing somewhat grotesque, “This old one is one of them.”
“I trust you, Elder,” Su Muyu said directly.
“Oh? I thought Master Puppet had already put me on his kill list,” the hunchbacked elder spoke slowly.
“When faced with desperate circumstances, sometimes we’re powerless, and all we can do is trust. Like how I trust those in the front courtyard, even though some have already betrayed me. And like how I trust you, Elder—the kind of person who would still stand guard beside the Patriarch even if I betrayed Spider Shadow,” Su Muyu stopped rotating his umbrella handle.
“Such moving words,” the hunchbacked elder walked slowly toward the front courtyard, “Moving enough to be worth dying for.”